Miranda Rights
by The Keddster
Summary: Part of the Miranda Rights warn that: Anything you say may be used against you... especially things like; "I can't help it if you get off by putting things in my mouth." This is a post 'Still' one-shot because seriously, how could I not, when the writers give us lines like that to work with.


**A/N: "I can't help it if you get off by putting things in my mouth." This would have to be the most loaded one-liner of the season and, the result... read for yourself.**

Disclaimer: Insert usual comment about my immense disappointment at not being affiliated with or in ownership of anything Castle-related.

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Miranda Rights

"Geez Rick, I'm never gonna live this down am I? It's like you've read me my rights and now you're trying to use my words against me," Kate groans as she keeps her eyes straight ahead, concentrating on the road and resolutely refusing to look at him smirking beside her.

They are in her car, nearing his building and rather than dwell on or deal with the ramifications of their close call earlier in the day, they have settled into their tried and tested way of avoiding the serious issues; humour, teasing and innuendo. It's a temporary fix and they know it, but both are secure in the knowledge that they _will_ talk about it, acknowledge it and help each other through it... just not today. So Castle is milking her comment about him getting off by putting things in her mouth, for all its worth. _Why didn't I just say words, putting words in my mouth? Why did I have to say "I can't help it if you get off by putting things in my mouth."_

"Kate, I'm going to remember every moment of this day - mostly for all the _wrong_ reasons," he answers, jolting her out of her regret-filled thoughts, the last remnants of fear still evident in his eyes, a direct contrast to the teasing lilt in his voice. "But other than the beautiful sound of that pressure plate disengaging, there were two indisputable high points of my day; one of them took my breath away, the other I plan to use for my personal amusement... as often as humanly possible."

"I thought we firmly established during one of our little trips down memory lane, that you are the standout champion of ridiculous and inappropriate bon mots." Kate reminds him, but her attempted deflection falls on deaf ears.

"Nu-uhh Beckett. Your little _Freudian slip_ definitely eclipses every indecent, outrageous and goofy thing I've ever said, to you or anyone else," he challenges, eyebrows raised and lips upturned in a self-indulgent smirk.

It's then, as he lets them into his loft that Kate decides she's going to play dirty and wipe that smug grin off his face. "Well, that's a real shame."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that if the idea of _things in my mouth_ is nothing more than a source of comic relief for you, then I guess you aren't interested in it offering any other kinds of _relief_ - now, or at any time in the foreseeable future."

Castle's brow furrows in confusion for less than a second before his eyes widen and a series of desperate, rather inarticulate objections begin spewing from his mouth. "But... no, no wait... that's not... you can't... I didn't... _Kaaaate_."

"_Riiick_," she counters with a devilish grin, drawing his name out in an identical, exaggerated whine. "Given that I've once again come face to face with my own mortality, I was so looking forward to some _face to face_, life-affirming _activities _tonight, preferably involving you, alcohol and nudity. But since you will, by your own admission, be unable to keep a straight face, maybe I'll have to rethink my plan to put _anything_ in my mouth, ever again."

_His_ mouth opens then and promptly snaps closed, before opening again in a soundless, rather disturbing impersonation of a fish. He eventually cards a hand firmly through his own hair, a frustrated growl erupting from low in his throat as he attempts to regain his equilibrium.

"What? No witty comeback? No smart-assed verbal retaliation, writer-man? I thought you'd be all over that."

"Oh, my dear detective," he rasps menacingly as he suddenly regains his wits and steps toward her, his eyes darkening to a predatory ink-blue and his arms circling possessively around her waist. "I'm going to be all over _something_ and I can assure you I'll have no problem taking things _very_ seriously."

He lowers his lips to hers, his tongue swiping confidently over her bottom lip and after a brief grin, Kate grants him access, their need for each other escalating with every second their mouths are fused in passionate exploration. When he slides his warm, seeking fingers under her shirt she moans softly into his mouth and deepens the kiss.

Her shirt is off and his unbuttoned by the time they reach the bedroom, mouths and hands finding and worshiping every inch of newly-exposed flesh. It's a familiar dance for them now, a well established rhythm that changes depending on their mood, the time of day, their sobriety, the presence if other people in the loft, their _need_, and tonight there's a desperate but gentle urgency about them. It's reminiscent of their first time together and while neither of them is surprised, they are both a little overwhelmed and their playfulness evaporates as they divest each other of their remaining clothing.

"God, I love you." Castle breathes into the skin of her chest as he lowers her to the bed and laves hot, wet kisses over her clavicles, her breasts and the base of her sternum, before his mouth blazes a tantalising trail across her belly. "I'm not religious but I said more than one prayer today, Kate."

When his mouth descends to its ultimate destination, the movements of his lips and tongue are slow and rhythmic and it's winding her up with startling rapidity. And when his fingers begin a complimentary rhythm inside her she gasps his name, a raspy and protracted '_Castle' _in place of the blasphemy his talented mouth would usually elicit from her; because _she_ prayed today too, initially for her own safety, then for her demise to be quick and painless and finally, for Rick and her Dad to be okay without her; but when Castle came back into the room, she prayed for a miracle.

So now as she's about to unravel under his skilled and practiced touch, something in the deep recesses of her mind, her immense gratitude for whatever higher power saved them today, prevents her from screaming _'__Oh God' _as she comes.

She's a breathless, boneless mess as she slowly drifts down, only vaguely aware that the man responsible for her semi-incoherent state is currently hovering above her, his gaze full of love, passion and no small amount of male pride.

"Wow," she whispers with a contented smile, too delirious to hide her obvious satisfaction from him. Because yeah, he does get off on doing this to her, turning her to jelly, but not because it boosts his ego; he really just _gets off _on bringing her pleasure. And as he begins kissing her again, the evidence of his obvious _enthusiasm _presses firmly against her belly and she is overwhelmed by the desire to return the favour.

She kisses him back and it builds quickly from languid to fierce, and just as he shifts his hips to join their bodies together she rolls them over, chuckling at his startled yelp as she sprawls messily on top of him.

"How can that little manoeuvre continue to surprise me and why do I still find it all kinds of _hot, _even after all this time?" Castle chuckles as she wriggles against him.

"Because I'm just so _good_ at it," Kate answers, employing her breathiest bedroom voice as she begins kissing his chest. "And because you're anticipating what comes next."

"And what might that be?" Castle rasps, his voice lust-roughened, his eyes following her every move as she kisses and nips her way down his body.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something, " she grins as she uses her lips and nose to tease the narrow strip of hair that originates just under his navel and travels directly... south. She relishes his shiver and the tensing of his abs in response to her touch, her own desire building again; but when he moans loudly as he watches her take him into her mouth, her smouldering arousal reignites into an inferno, the flames fanned by the pleasure she is giving him and by the knowledge that he's watching her do it.

One of his hands clutches desperately at the sheets, while the other tangles in her hair, his hips rocking in time with the movements of her mouth and his breath coming in breathless gasps.

"Kate," he croaks once she shifts tempo and focusses her tongue's attention on his sensitive underside, just the way she knows he loves, the way she knows will eventually send him over the edge. He almost launches off the bed when she hums a questioning "Hmmmm?" around him.

He usually lets her decide how this particular _activity_ ends, but this time _he_ decides, because he wants to look at her, now, eye to eye; he wants to feel her under him, around him, clutching at him, looking at him as they come together. He wants to watch her and tell her again, over and over that he loves her while the only danger they face is the possibility of a pulled muscle or an unceremonious tumble off the bed.

So he tugs her upwards, feeling only a brief moment of regret as her mouth leaves him and then he settles over her, meeting her eyes, their gazes locking as he surges into her. It's hot and intense and brief because they are both on a knife's edge, moving in desperate but perfect synchrony, crashing quickly over the precipice together, amidst whispered words of love, breathy moans and satisfied sighs.

* * *

They are a sweaty, exhausted tangle of limbs as they catch their breath, rolling to face each other once capable of purposeful movement. They don't speak as they watch one another, content in their silence as they hover in that post-coital la-la-land between sated euphoria and endorphin-induced slumber. But neither of them yield to the tempting pull of sleep, instead they continue to gaze unwaveringly at the other, their thoughts mutually awash with the gravity of the day, the reality of what they almost lost.

Eventually Kate reaches up to touch his face, her fingertips ghosting over his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, his lips, and his eyes drift closed. When she wriggles closer he winds an arm around her, cants into her warmth and smiles softly as she slips one long leg between his. They still don't utter a word, nor do they succumb to slumber despite their closed eyes and gentle, even breathing. Neither one wants to break the spell, interrupt the tender intimacy of the moment, but Kate can't help herself because telling Rick she loves him, finally giving voice to the magnitude of her feelings has opened the floodgates.

"Look at me," she hums against his cheek, tilting her head back so she can see his gorgeous blue eyes. She too wants to say it again, here, now, in the comforting familiarity of the loft, free from the tearful desperation and imminent danger that clouded her earlier declaration. She wants him to hear it, clear, unsolicited and without hesitation. So once he opens his eyes she softly whispers, "I love you and I'm sorry it took me so lo..."

He doesn't let her finish, interrupting her apology with a silencing finger against her lips and another simple, "I love you too."

* * *

They both wake in the wee hours, still cocooned together, the length of her back now against his chest, their legs still tangled together, her entire frame engulfed by the powerful bulk of his. His breath is warm against her neck and he takes a long inhalation, sighing heavily.

"You okay?" Kate asks.

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Just appreciating that I still get to do this. Lay here, hold you, breathe you in."

She tenses, is about to turn to face him because she can hear the emotion, the small quaver in his voice, but he senses her tension and he's not ready to let go of the relaxed, peaceful warmth of being wrapped around her like this, so he rescues the moment.

"I love it when you smell like me. Oh I love the way _you_ smell, but this is better," he whispers against her ear before nuzzling into her neck and taking an exaggerated breath."

"Me too," Kate chuckles softly. "I love waking up with the smell of you on my skin. It kinda does it for me."

"Is that right?" Castle asks, tightening his arms and splaying a large palm over her abdomen. "So what else _does it _for you?"

"Lots of things."

"Dirty things?" He asks hopefully. "Because if you want to elaborate, I'm _all ears_."

"And all _hands_ apparently," she says playfully as his hand drifts lower, gasping softly and rocking her hips into his touch when his fingers begin boldly stroking her.

"C'mon Kate, we already know what gets _me_ off, what _does it_ for me; words obviously, gadgets, conspiracy theories, hot kick-ass detectives... "

"I'll be sure to let Espo know you're so into him."

"Funny." Castle grins, their banter playful but the way he's touching her fast becoming anything _but_.

"You forgot one thing though," she says, a slight hitch in her voice. "You get off by putting things on my mou... _Oh God._"

"I get off on _you_, Kate. The way you think, the way you look, the way you move, your smile, your laugh, the way you lose it when I do _this._" He slides two fingers into her, circles her with his thumb as he whispers his compliments against her rapidly flushing skin and when he presses the solid evidence of exactly what she does to him against her, she arches her back and soars over the edge. She's catching her breath when he grins against her shoulder and continues. "Your compassion, your fearlessness, your integrity, your hotness... and most importantly, your magnificent taste in men."

She chuckles breathlessly as she turns in his arms to face him. "Rick, Rick, Rick. You were _sooo_ close to talking your way into getting lucky again, and then you had to go and ruin it."

"I don't think I've ever felt luckier in my life than I do right now," he tells her, a serious edge once again creeping into his voice, but he swallows it down. "And if I can get away with teasing you about putting your foot, amongst _other_ _things_, in your mouth, and not get shot, I'll consider myself _beyond_ lucky. Because seriously Kate, that's gotta be the funniest, dirtiest, 'awesomest' thing you've ever said to me."

Kate cants into him then, drags her fingernails down his chest and over his abs, presses her lips to his. "What? _I love you_ wasn't awesome enough for ya?"

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Thanks for reading, and while reviews aren't compulsory they are always gratefully received and greatly appreciated :-)


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